


Part of Your World

by Emmasinthebooknow



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Books, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-02-24 12:46:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2581910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmasinthebooknow/pseuds/Emmasinthebooknow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hook has been doing some reading, to learn more about this realm. (And Emma is in for a surprise.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Part of Your World

The sheriff's station is warm, and the windows are frosted with glittering ice. Hook and Emma are drinking coffee side by side as they study old musty books on Arendelle. Emma has turned on the morning news, waiting for the weather report. Suddenly, Hook sets down his coffee and cocks his head, listening. He frowns at the TV. 

"That man - the ruler of your country - he has the ability to fly?" Hook asks, pointing to the screen. Emma looks. There is a shot of the president walking through the airport, and the caption at the bottom says _President Flies To China._

"Oh!" Emma says. "Not magic flying. It means he traveled using an airplane." Emma sets down her coffee, about to explain airplanes. But without missing a beat, Hook says,

"Ah, yes! A device which allows for transportation of humans through the air without the use of any magic or flying creatures! A fascinating invention-" Then he stops, like he's just realized what he's saying, and the tips of his ears turn pink. "I apologize. I've interrupted you, that was impolite of me."

"A fascinating invention?" Emma repeats. She realizes her mouth is hanging open, and shuts it.

"I've been doing a bit of reading," he says, with a little shrug. Like it's _nothing._

A warm feeling comes over Emma. She pictures him going to the library and picking out a book from the nonfiction section, something about the 'fascinating inventions' of this realm. She pictures him poring over it in his room at Granny's, the light of a desk lamp illuminating his face as he reads into the night. She has the sudden impulse to take his hand.

She laces her fingers with his. Hook is smiling now, and his shoulders relax. He leans forward, pushing his coffee aside, and starts talking a mile a minute. Like he's been holding this information in for far too long.

"Airplanes are quite fascinating, Swan! Did you know they are kept up in the air by the same principle that keeps a bird's wings up in the air? It is a concept known as lift!" His face is lit up, and he leans forward, gesturing with his hook for emphasis as he begins to talk about how airplanes run, and how an airport works, and what pilots do. And Emma realizes: he hasn't just been doing 'a bit of reading.' He sounds like he's actually been doing _research._ "and did you know," he continues, "they airplanes can hold up to a thousand-"

Emma grabs his jacket collar and kisses him. He lets out a little gasp of surprise. His mouth tastes like coffee and sugar, and she swears he actually smells like books. She opens her mouth, and she's holding his collar with both hands now, and he groans and wraps a hand around her waist.

When she finally pulls back, they're both a little out of breath. Hook's hair is mussed. Grinning, he murmurs, "Bloody hell, love. I'm not complaining, but what was that for?"

She just shakes her head, smiling helplessly, because she's getting emotional over nerdy trivia about airplanes, and there is really no good way to explain that.

*

After that, he starts _casually_ slipping it into conversation. 

"Love, if you don't take the portable battery with you, then it will lose its charge." He says _charge_ like it's an innuendo. And when she check his facial expression, yup - he's smirking. He trails his index finger long his chin towards his lips, working his jaw, his eyes turning sinfully dark as he nudges the laptop battery towards her with his hook.

"Thanks, I'll do that," she says cooly, slipping the battery into her bag. But she can't stop thinking about him for the rest of the damn day. And when she kisses him that evening, it's clear that (damn him) he knows it. 

(He murmurs something about " _electrons,_ Swan" into her neck as he kisses her, and a shiver runs down her spine. And hell if she knows how something so silly is making her feel this way - something that's supposed to be a _joke_ , for God's sake - but she's in trouble.)

But then one day, Emma runs into him inside the actual library. She's returning some old books on Arendelle royalty, and she spots him in at the information desk. He doesn't see her come in. He is hunched over his work, concentrating, his tongue poking out of his lips a little. He flips through the card catalog, then writes something in a small spiral-bound notebook. 

Emma braces herself for an unprecedented level of teasing, prepares her best poker face, and says, "Hey."

He whirls around. When he sees her, he turns bright red and drops the notebook. Emma reaches for it, but he scrambles to pick it up, and knocks over a display of romance novels on a rotating metal rack. Books go flying and he ends up on the floor beneath a pile of paperbacks.

"Are you okay?" Emma says, helping him up. When he nods, she says, "what were you just holding? That notebook?"

For a split second, there's fear in his eyes. But then, he's Hook again. He flashes his wickedest smile, kneels down to the pile of fallen romance novels, and snatches the nearest one. He looks delighted, and when he holds it up to Emma, she sees that, unfortunately, it bears the glossy title of _Princess Unbound_ and has a picture of a blonde princess on the cover, kissing a man wearing black leather.

"Oh, just _Princess Unbound_ ," he says, raising his voice so it is just a little too loud. "Though I'm sure we can find _Princess Bound_ , if you'd rather?" His tone and facial expression are so beyond inappropriate for a small-town public library, it almost makes Emma forget her original question. Almost.

But his cheeks are still tinted pink, and he's covering for something. His blush lingers in her mind for the rest of the day.

*

She's at Granny's with Hook, and she has just spilled hot chocolate down the front of her shirt. Great. To make things even better, it's a white top, and a white bra, which is now on display to the world, thanks to her perfect aim.

"Bra is short for brassiere," Hook remarks knowledgeably. His voice sounds perfectly calm, but there's mischief in his eyes as he passes her napkins from the dispenser. "The word origin is French, from the eighteenth century, when-"

Emma rolls her eyes as she pulls on her coat, buttoning over the spot. "Yes, nerd, it's a bra. I'll be right back, I've got a change of clothes in the car."

When she gets back, she says, "let me into your room?"  He looks startled, so Emma explains, "There's an 'out of order' sign on the bathroom, and I need somewhere to change clothes."

He runs his hand through his hair. This makes it stick up at a weird angle, but he doesn't seem to notice. "Right! Ah, of course you may use my quarters - give me one moment to clean the place up." His face is going a little red.

Emma shakes her head. "Honestly, it's fine - and it's a hundred degrees in here in this coat." She heads through the connecting doorway and down the hall. He follows.

"It really is extremely messy," he says halfheartedly. But the heat is blasting even harder in the hallway, and so, with a resigned little sigh, he opens the door to his room.

Emma's jaw drops. 

Every flat surface is covered in books. They're on top of the tv, on the nightstand, the bed, and most of all, the desk. It's heaped with neat stacks of dozens and dozens of library books. Emma glances back at him, and he's biting his lip. His eyes look worried.

"Hook," she says, and takes his hand. Her voice is a little unsteady because she was _not_ expecting this. But she smiles, reassuring. And he takes a breath, like he's making a decision, and leads her inside.

The desk is by the door. Emma studies the books, still holding his hand. Some are hardcovers wrapped in glossy library plastic, some are paperbacks with ridged spines, some are crisp and fresh with bright white library stickers like they've never been checked out. They smell of paper and that warm library-ish smell. Slowly, she runs her finger along the spines.

_Automotive Repair For Dummies. Basic American History. Teach Yourself Computer Skills. Easy Recipes For A Modern Kitchen. The Tempest. Harry Potter. World Geography. Modern Linguistics._ It's endless. (There's even a book called _The Senior Citizen's Guide to Using the Internet._ ) And the little spiral-bound notebook is there, open to a page with a neat list of dozens more books. A few have check marks next to them, indicating they have been read. Most of them don't. Emma touches the perfect handwriting on the smooth page. This is so much more than curiosity, or survival, or fitting in. This is is someone who has moved here, for good.

She turns her whole body to him, and wraps her arms around his neck, and kisses him. Soft at first, lips fluttering across lips - and then, desperate, her fingers raking through his hair. She still doesn't know how to tell him what this means to her.

"Tell me what you're reading right now," she whispers. And he seems to understand.

He murmurs words into her neck, her mouth - and then, her ribs, her hip, her thigh. Emma closes her eyes, concentrating on the feeling of his voice vibrating through her skin. This might have started as a joke, but in here with all these books, it is something else. He lives here, he is learning this world. And every word he says sounds like _home, home, home._  


End file.
